The Strange Daydreams of Hermione Granger
by Lildaani
Summary: Fred Weasley forced one of his Patented Daydream Charms on her, so she's decided to use it. She just wasn't expecting swashbuckling pirates and Draco Malfoy... Sequel up! Titled "Fair Maiden's Dream"
1. Beesting and Conk

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter series or the characters there-in. The first scene, denoted by italics, is taken almost directly from _Harry Potter and The Half-Blood Price_, and therefore does not belong to me. I would appreciate it greatly if no legal action were taken against me. Thank you.

* * *

Chapter 1 (_Beesting and Conk_)

* * *

_Hermione squeezed through the milling crowd to get to a large display near the store's counter_._ She picked up and began to read the back of a box bearing a highly colored picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl, who were standing on the deck of a pirate ship_."'_Patented Daydream Charms_…_ One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality_,_ highly realistic_,_ thirty-minute daydream_,_ easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable _(_side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling_)._ Not for sale to under-sixteens_.'" _She looked up at Harry_, _standing not far away. _"_You know_,_ that really is extraordinary magic_!"

"_For that, Hermione, you can have one for free_," _said a beaming Fred Weasley._

* * *

She had tried to refuse it, but Fred refused it hear it; thus, she now had an unused Daydream Charm in her pocket. It would be unthinkable to use it during a lesson, and even worse to not use it at all.

Currently, she was sitting in the Quidditch stands, bored and slightly sick as the players brutalized each other in midair. Ron was doing an excellent job as Keeper, and neither team had scored yet. There was no sign of the Golden Snitch, either.

With a sigh, she felt the corner of the box through her robe, debating with herself. If the boys found out she had, in effect, skipped the game…. In point of fact, they were the reason she was even there. She had wanted to go to the library, but nooo. They had stared at her as if she'd grown a second head out of her ear (a _singing_ head, at that), then practically _dragged_ her to the pitch.

She had told them – several times over, in fact – that Quidditch made her sick, with its unwarranted violence and tendency to cause severe injury.

_Physical illness or sulking teenage boys_?

With no further thought, she invoked the charm.

* * *

She found herself in the crow's nest of a ship.

_Well_._ That_'_s really rather uninspired_,_ considering what's on the box_, she thought.

However, she did have to admit that it _was_ very realistic.

Gulls shrieked and cackled, dark shapes gliding against the horizon. The sky was a clear, tropical blue so vibrant as to make her eyes tear. A warm, salty breeze ruffled her curls, probably snarling them into knots worse than usual.

She stumbled forward as the ship shifted under her feet, nearly tripping on the hem of her dress.

_Wait a second_. She looked down at herself. In the place of her usual school robes, she wore a light, filmy, summer dress, hanging loosely around her ankles and revealing her surprising lack of shoes. Shrugging to herself, she leaned over the rail of the nest, gasping as she saw the clear, sparkling water, at least a hundred feet below. Colorful shapes she assumed to be fish darted about playfully beneath the waves.

A crack of thunder snapped her head around to see looming thunderclouds, not far away. The ship gave another lurch and she lost her balance. She shrieked as she went over the side and started to fall to the deck, an unforgiving distance below.

The jar of impact, much quicker and softer than she expected, knocked the wind out of her. She looked up, shocked to see the tanned and unsmiling face of one Draco Malfoy, who had, apparently, caught her and was, even now, swinging them down to safety. Behind him, she caught a brief glimpse of a black flag, waving in the wind of the oncoming storm.

_Heh_._ A pirate ship_._ Figures_.

They landed on the deck, and the rope that Malfoy had used to do his jungle-man-type rescue seemed to disappear.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she demanded.

He grinned cheekily, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Deciding this comment wasn't worth answering, she turned her attention to the rest of the ship. Marcus Flint seemed to be in charge, barking orders to other, half-recognized Slytherins who were scuttling around, preparing for the coming storm. The costumes they were wearing had a definite Hollywood feel to them, which was unsurprising, since Hermione knew nothing about _real_ pirates.

"CAPTAIN ON DECK!" Flint yelled.

"Uh oh," Malfoy muttered.

_Snape's the captain_?_ Why do I find that less-than-surprising_?

The man's dark eyes glittered malevolently as he caught sight of her. However, he addressed Malfoy first. "May I _ask_ why there is a _woman_ on my ship, crewman?"

"I was about to come find you, sir. She's a stowaway."

"I see," he said silkily, looking at her. "Do you know what happens to stowaways on my ship, wench?"

Bristling at the insult, she drew herself up and looked him in the eye. "No, sir, I do not."

He smirked, "We make them walk the plank. **Isn't that right, lads**!" he exclaimed, receiving a hearty roar in response. "However…" he continued, "I do believe you're too pretty for such a fate. Perhaps we'll keep you around, as a toy for the crew, hmm?" This was met by an even louder approval.

Abruptly remembering that this was a daydream, and she had some control over it, she willed a sword into her hand. Grinning as she felt its weight in her grip, she brought it up, point pressing lightly into the soft skin underneath Snape's jaw. "I don't think I'd agree to that, sir." Several members of the crew started to draw their own weapons, but at a hand motion from Snape they backed off.

"I see."

"Sir," a man she didn't recognize interrupted hesitantly, eyes flickering between her and his captain. "We've an approaching vessel, riding with the storm."

Snape jerked to look at him, forgetting the sword at his throat. Hermione removed it, figuring that the dream-captain had learned his lesson.

"Is it the _Bloody Phoenix_?" he demanded, snatching the man's telescope and looking through it. "Blast and damnation! Prepare the guns! The _Silver Doe_ will see battle this day!" He turned back to her and Malfoy with a hard look on his face. "You're his spy, aren't you! Crewman, throw her in the brig! I will not tolerate spies on my ship!"

She didn't pause to consider the irony. "I am no one's spy! Let go of me!" she cried, jerking out of Malfoy grip and brandishing her sword as if she actually had a clue how to use it. This _was_ her dream, maybe she did.

"I don't have time for this," Snape growled. "Stay on deck if you wish. Crewman, keep a weather eye." Then he galloped up to the upper deck to take the helm, practically throwing the bloke who had been there down the stairs.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked, bewildered.

"The _Bloody Phoenix_ is captained by Albus Beesting, Cap'n Conk's rival," Malfoy answered.

"Captain Conk?" she repeated, laughing.

"Careful, miss. He doesn't like being laughed at."

"No, I imagine not," she said, attempting – and failing – to keep a straight face.

The ship began to lurch as it got closer to the choppy water in the storm. The sails cracked as the wind fought with them, almost as loud as the thunder itself. Abruptly they were in the storm, with rain pounding against the deck and making it slippery. Her grip on the railing tightened as her dress was flattened against her body, held there by the water.

Malfoy wolf-whistled at her. Considering the availability of his cheek, she reached out to slap him. Though, seeing as the deck was now slippery, she lost her footing and fell into him instead.

Thus, she found herself being held by Malfoy for the second time in twenty minutes. She pushed away from him, eyes widening as she looked over his shoulder. There, in the not-so-far distance, was another ship – with blood red sails.

"The, ah, _Bloody Phoenix_, I presume?"

Malfoy looked over his shoulder. "Aye."

Snape – or, Captain Conk, rather – was spinning the wheel hard, trying to get the ship aligned to fire. "Prepare to fire!" he yelled, which was echoed by others.

The ships pulled along side each other and the booming of cannons competed with the thunder to be heard. People from the other ship swung across on ropes, to be met by the hard steel of the crew of the _Silver Doe_.

She gasped as she saw several Weasleys among the invaders, and her gaze snapped up to the person at the helm of the opponent ship. There stood Dumbledore, long brown beard billowing out behind him and a crazed look in his eye.

Harry Potter swung across, landing almost on top of Hermione and Malfoy.

He and Harry immediately began to fight, metal flashing with shocking speed.

Hermione stared for a moment, shocked. "Stop! Stop it! Harry, what are you doing!?"

Malfoy blocked a vicious thrust, holding Harry's weapon at bay for a moment. "It's no use, miss. They've been brainwashed. Old Beesting has them thinking that whatever they do is right and just, even when it's not."

"I'm the brainwashed one? You consort with the likes of Conk and Snakeface! You deserve to die for your deeds!" Harry cried.

"Snakeface is our enemy, just as much as he's yours, you wretched fool!"

"Filthy Slytherin liar!" he yelled, renewing his attack. "Your father is the first mate of the _Blind Basilisk_, don't claim otherwise!"

"Harry! Harry, stop!" Hermione tried again, not sure what else to do.

"You're as bad as he is!" Harry proclaimed, knocking the sword out of Malfoy's grip with a savage jerk. "I'll take care of you in a minute, monkey," he murmured to Malfoy, then turned to Hermione, eyes glinting with insanity.

Hermione's eyes widened as she saw that look. This was not the Harry that she knew. She half-heartedly brought up her sword, prepared to defend her life. From the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy retrieve his sword and raise it behind Harry's back –

* * *

"AND SLYTHERIN WINS THE MATCH!!"

She blinked and jerked upright as the Quidditch game returned to view.

"You alright, Hermione?" Neville asked. "You kind of spaced out for a while."

"Err, yes. I'm fine," she said. Not wanting him to ask any more questions, she changed the subject. "How are you doing on Professor Conk's essay?"

"Uhh, who?" he asked, bewildered.

Her eyes widened. "Snape! Professor Snape's!" she corrected.

Neville looked at her strangely.

* * *

A/N: So this strange little story just popped into my head one day, due to the scene that I quoted at the beginning. Hopefully you guys found it amusing? Anyway, if there's interest I might continue the story with her going back in another day.

Please Review!


	2. Oh, Crap

A/N: Alright. Due to _so many_ coughsixcough requests for a continuation – I present to you: the next chapter! Hurrah.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Harry Potter, the series probably would not be in the finished state that it currently is in.

* * *

Chapter 2 (_Oh Crap_)

* * *

Ever since the Quidditch match, Hermione couldn't stop thinking about that wonderfully, whimsically, weird daydream. The thought of a three-sided war – the _Doe_ vs. the _Phoenix_ vs. the _Basilisk_ – was intriguing. She couldn't help but think that it hadn't lasted _nearly_ long enough.

So, she found herself fiddling with the charm, trying to figure out how it worked and if she could modify it to last longer.

Sure, one part of her mind was yelling at her that it was a Bad Idea, but leaving the dream there just seemed wrong. Like reading half a book, only to find the last pages were missing.

It was beyond frustrating. It was unbearable.

Thus she found herself in the library, surrounded by books about modifying charms, dream charms, and imagination enhancers.

She frowned down at the object that held the charm, waiting to be activated anew. She _thought_ it was ready, but something was nagging her. Did she forget something?

"Imagine my surprise, finding you _here,_ Mudblood. But, then, it's not like you have anything better to do with your time, do you? Can't even get Potty or the Weasel to notice you're a girl, let alone anyone else, can you?" sneered a voice that brought to mind anger, suffering, humiliation, and, recently, slippery decks on a ship.

"I liked him better as a rigging monkey," she muttered to herself. "Imagine _my_ surprise that you even know how to read, let alone know the purpose of a library, Malfoy," she said, turning to glare at him. Unfortunately, he didn't go away. "Is there something you wanted?"

He shrugged. "I'm merely curious as to what it is you think you're doing," he said, eyeing the books around her. His gaze landed the little snow-globe like item that housed the charm. Grinning, he grabbed it before she realized what he was doing. "What is _this_?" he asked, tilting it so that the little ships inside were tossed about in monster waves.

"Give that back!" she cried, grabbing for it.

"Oh, I didn't realize it was so important to you. In that case – I think not," he said, holding it out of her reach.

"Damn it, Malfoy!" she said through gritted teeth. He wasn't _that_ much taller than her. She eyed the distance, then jumped for it. Her fingers got a loose hold on it before he yanked it away. They both lost their hold on it as Hermione fell back to the ground, however. She fumbled for it, but completely missed catching it. It fell to the ground with a crash of breaking glass.

_This is the _other_ reason I don't play Quidditch_, she thought as the liquid inside the globe splattered all over her and Malfoy.

* * *

Something was pulling at her hair. With a groan, she pushed herself upright, wincing as a sea gull shrieked almost directly in her ear. The bird did a hop-flap away, then darted back to peck at her head again.

"Ow!" she exclaimed, jerking away.

The bird seemed unimpressed, cocking its head at her. Then, apparently deciding she wasn't worth the trouble, it flew away.

She stood up, brushing sand from her dress. _Wait, I'm back in dreamland_? She took in her surroundings hesitantly.

She stood on an impeccably white beach, the kind that you only see in postcards. Along the edge of the sand stood palm trees and bushy growth – also remarkably similar to a postcard.

In fact, she was almost positive that this whole scene _was_ a postcard that she'd seen once. Except for the pirate ships docked in the harbor. She eyed said ships uncertainly. There was no sign of anyone moving around, so presumably they were all on land somewhere.

Well. She wasn't about to go tramping around in the underbrush in a dress! She looked down, willing her outfit to change. After a moment, she stood there in a white cotton shirt, with black ankle-pants. A sword hung at her hip, tied there by a green satin sash. Her hair was held back by a matching bandanna, and her feet were clad in boots suitable for walking in a tropical forest. She almost went for the hoop earrings to complete the look, but decided to leave them off – they were too obvious a target were she to get into a fight. Not that she was planning to. But still – just in case.

Eyes scanning the tree-line for some kind of path, she quickly found one and began walking toward it. A few steps in, and she abruptly found herself at the edge of a dirty little village. She blinked and looked over her shoulder to find a twisting path that was obviously longer than the few steps she had taken.

…_Alright then_. It was a dream, after all.

The crashing noise of someone stumbling through the brush jerked her gaze around, to see Malfoy fighting with the vegetation. She smiled, remembering the polite creature her subconscious had conjured to take the place of the true Draco Malfoy, but then she hesitated, looking closer. This wasn't the tanned, highly muscled Malfoy of her first daydream – this was the pale, scrawny ferret of reality. He wore breeches made out of linen, with a fine, white cambric shirt and a black satin sash like hers. His outfit was completed with black boots that came to just above his knee and a cutlass hanging from his sash.

He looked up from his courageous battle with a fern of the most fearsome variety, spotting her. "Granger?"

Abruptly she remembered their fight in the library that had ended when the daydream charm had shattered. Her eyes widened. "Crap."

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you mind telling me where the _hell_ we are?"

"We're in a daydream," she answered tightly, "and because of _you_, we have no way out."

"How is it _my_ fault? If this's about that bauble _you_ broke–"

"_Me_? If you hadn't grabbed it in the _first place_, then we wouldn't _be here_!" she cried.

"I don't see what the problem is. The spell will wear off on its own–" he started.

She interrupted, "No, it won't. It was never intended to work for two people, and I don't even know how the charmed item being broken will affect things – I wasn't even _done_ modifying it yet, and you came and activated it!"

"What do you mean, it won't? Of course it will, they're only meant to last half an hour," he sneered.

She shook her head tiredly. "I changed it so that it would last until the story was done or until I said the counter charm."

"So say the counter charm," he said, throwing up his hands.

"There isn't one," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose and shutting her eyes.

"But you just–"

"I didn't get the chance to program one in, Malfoy," she snapped.

He was silent for a few moments, and she opened her eyes to find him staring at her. "Oh, that's just fucking _great_, Granger. What the hell were you thinking?"

Her jaw tightened. "I was about to do it when you _interrupted me_!"

At that moment more thrashing in the underbrush was heard, and a blocky pirate stopped short when he saw them. He cleared his throat, "Beggin' yer pardon fer interruptin', Mr. Malloy, sir, but the Capt'n is wantin' teh see yeh over at the Wolfe's Head. He's gettin' mighty impatient." With a sketchy salute, he was gone.

"What the hell?" Malfoy asked.

She hid her face in her hands. "Are you with me in playing this through, Malfoy?"

"Do I have a choice?" he snapped.

She shrugged. "No." She looked towards the town hesitantly. "We'd best go see what Captain Conk wants."

"Captain _Conk_?" he asked incredulously.

"He doesn't like being laughed at," she told him, then filled him in with everything she'd learned last time.

* * *

Please R&R!


	3. Wolfe's Head

**Disclaimer:** Maybe, if I sold all of my possessions and got a loan... _maybe_ I could buy Harry Potter's shoe (yes, singular. I doubt I could afford both). Maybe.

Also, I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, which this is starting to look like a loose parody of.

* * *

Chapter 3 (_Wolfe's Head_)

* * *

They hesitated on the edge of town, watching as pirates and townspeople caroused. Gunfire was a near-constant sound as men fired off guns into the air or at targets of their own design. Drunken giggling was heard from men and women alike – everywhere she looked there was some kind of alcohol being consumed. Seeing the milling crowd, she decided to change her dangling sword into a small dagger that she slipped into the top of her boot.

They passed a pigpen with a large, wild-looking man sleeping inside, hugging a small pig to himself like a teddy bear. He reminded her of someone, but she decided that it was better to let sleeping half-giants lie.

Women with too-tight clothing and excessive amounts of make-up were flirting with drunken men, doing things that were really best left unsaid.

"There," Malfoy said, nodding his head towards a battered and bullet-torn wooden sign of a howling wolf's head.

They entered the establishment to find it full of even more drinking men, though slightly more restrained than the world outside.

"Welcome to the Wolfe's Head Inn, I be the owner, John Wolfe," a man greeted them. Hermione looked up, nearly gasping aloud when she saw Remus Lupin standing there with a scraggly beard and a scar running from his forehead, barely missing his eye and ending at his right temple. Briefly, she wondered where it had come from. "Be ye lookin' for a table, or a room?" He looked at Draco with a shrewd eye, completely ignoring her presence. "If ye be lookin' for company for things other'n drinkin', I suggest you head to Madam Umspan's, across the way. We don't take too kindly to that, here."

Malfoy looked taken aback. "Err, no sir, I'm looking for – ah – Captain Conk."

Wolfe's welcoming demeanor immediately grew icy. "Aye, he be here." He jerked his head towards a table on the far side of the room, then turned to greet a new costumer.

Hermione looked where Wolfe had indicated, eyes widening when she saw Conk and Lucius Malfoy sitting at a table together.

"Drake Malloy?" a nasal voice interrupted. Lavender Brown came into view. "'oo is that, then?" she asked, sneering at Hermione. "Your latest, I s'pose. I should've known!" With that, she slapped him and walked away, nose in the air.

He looked after her, dazed. "What the bloody hell?"

"Drakie! Are you alright?" a different female voice cried.

"Pansy?" he asked, bewildered.

The woman, who was indeed in the image of Pansy Parkinson, looked affronted. "No! My name is Daisy!" She looked after "Lavender," then at Hermione in slow realization. "Oh! You – you–" With that, she, too, slapped Malfoy and walked away, crying.

Hermione couldn't help it; she started to snicker.

"I didn't even bloody _do_ anything!" he said, putting a hand to his abused cheek gingerly.

"Come on," she said, nodding towards Conk's table and starting to weave her way through the tables. A hand on her arm restrained her from going further.

"You didn't tell me it was _Snape_," Malfoy hissed at her.

Honestly, she had forgotten that Malfoy wouldn't already know. "Well, it hardly matters, does it? He doesn't know us – well, he knows you, but as Drake Malloy, apparently – but, I mean, it's not like it's _really_ him." He seemed doubtful as he let go of her arm, but she didn't continue her journey to the captain's table. "Umm," she continued. "You'd better go first, actually, since I don't know if he'll remember me from before or not."

Malfoy scowled, but nodded, taking the lead. As they drew closer to the table, Conk looked up, spotting him.

"Mr. Malloy, as my new first mate, I expect you to be _punctual._ Not to show up whenever you damn well please. Take the new crewmen to the ship," he said, gesturing to a nearby table with three, bored-looking pirates. One was quite obviously Kingsley Shacklebolt, while she couldn't identify the other two off hand. "We make way with the morning tide." With that, he returned to his conversation with Lucius – or whatever his name was in this instance.

Malfoy looked at her hopelessly. At her shrug, he gathered up the waiting crew members and took them out the door.

Hermione inched closer to the table, curious as to what Conk and 'Lucius' were talking about.

"Luscious appreciates your taking his boy under your wing, Conk," he was saying. "It must be admitted – Luscious knows nothing of child rearing."

Conk snorted, "You merely have to keep a firm hand with them. But, really Luscious, you mustn't change the subject. You were about to tell me about Beesting's crew?"

The man smirked, "Oh yes. Luscious will tell you – it was his most brilliant scheme yet. Luscious stole Beesting's precious _treasure_, and it drove the whole crew to candy-land, if you get Luscious' meaning." He chuckled, "Luscious made a little joke. Ahh," he shook his head, "Captain Snakeface was most pleased with Luscious' efforts. He even let Luscious see the map to its hiding place, afterwards." He picked up his glass and frowned, looking around. "You!" he said, pointing at her, "bring Luscious more of your finest brandy!"

Eyes wide, she looked around, trying to determine where she could get said drink. Mentally slapping herself, she willed a glass into existence and walked over.

He leered up at her, snaking an arm around her waist. "Come sit in Luscious' lap, wench."

She gasped as he tried to pull her down, reflexively dumping the glass all over him. She was unceremoniously dumped to the floor as '_Luscious_' jerked upright with a cry of disgust. His chair toppled over into a passerby, sending their drink all over the people at the next table. One guy at that table stood up and punched the poor passerby, who landed on another table, sending it toppling to the ground, and pretty soon the whole place was in chaos.

Conk, she noticed, stood back from it all, practically doubled over in laughter.

The sound of crashing glass and cries of pain and anger were loud as she dodged around the heaving masses of brawling pirates, attempting to get to the door.

"Take it outside, ye scurvy dogs!" John Wolfe bellowed. "Anything ye break I'll take outta yer hides! Out! Out! I'll not be havin' this here!"

This had no effect whatsoever on the crowd.

Frowning, he waded through the crowd, physically pulling the fighters apart, and sending them out to do the same. It was surprising how strong the somewhat scrawny-looking man was.

Luscious was loudly demanding punishment for the serving girl who had defiled him in such a manner, and Conk was still laughing when Wolfe had conquered the chaos.

She quickly slipped out the door before she was noticed.

* * *

A/N: I just want to take a moment and say, _Thank You_ for all your reviews. I read all of them, and will always read all of them, no matter if I get 1 or 1000. Even if I don't respond, I do appreciate your words. Knowing that someone is out there, other then my friends/family, who likes my work is thrilling. (I mean, it's nice that my family likes it too, but they're practically required to.)

Also, if anyone feels like they're missing a joke (for example, with the name changes) feel free to ask me about it. I have a reason for... most of it, at least.

And yes, the description of the town was based on Tortuga of PoTC.

Now, go hit that little 'review' button and tell me how much you liked it! or not. whichever. My plot bunnies are getting hungry, and they feed off reviews.


	4. Sneaking Aboard

**Disclaimer:** Arr, I not be ownin' Harry Potter, yeh foolish landlubber, and I'll have yer tongue if yeh say otherwise!

* * *

Chapter 4 (_Sneaking Aboard_)

* * *

She blinked and squinted as the late afternoon sun hit her square in the eyes. The docks were directly in front of her, ships looking strangely barren with the sails taken in. She looked behind her, half expecting to see the door to the Wolfe's Head hovering in midair. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not when she only saw the animal trail from before. These abrupt scene changes were annoying, though it was nice not having to walk everywhere.

She returned her gaze to the harbor, eyes skimming over the ships. She recognized the _Silver Doe_ almost instantly, though she wasn't sure how – they all looked nearly identical. The flag of a ship off by itself caught her eye as the wind played with it. Her face went cold – it was flying the Dark Mark. _Well, there's the Blind Basilisk._

Malfoy was on the dock nearby with the three new crewmembers. He appeared to be stalling. Her eyes widened as she realized what the problem was; he didn't know which ship was the _Doe_.

She couldn't very well shout it out to him – not without the crew getting suspicious. Without thinking her plan through – or even coming up with one, to be honest – she started to run towards them.

"Drake! Drakieee!" she cried, feeling ridiculous but going with it. "Drakie, I couldn't let you leave yet!" she added, throwing herself into his arms. She heard the new crewmen snicker from behind her.

"I know you want me, Granger, but do try and restrain yourself," he murmured into her hair.

"Play along, you idiot," she hissed back. "The _Silver Doe_ is the one second to the right." She pushed away from him a little and said louder, "You'll come meet me tonight, won't you?" she whined, mouthing _'Wolfe's Head_' at him. "You can't go off an' leave me without a proper goodbye, now can you?"

He blinked and nodded almost imperceptibly. "I'll see if I can get away, luv."

She stood there, watching as he led the crew to the ship. One of the men clapped Malfoy on the back, and she started as she heard Neville's voice say, "That's one fine lookin' woman you've got, mate."

"Touch me again and the sharks will get a new chew toy, Shortstack," Malfoy said.

* * *

As impossible as it seemed, the town got even rowdier after dark.

She jerked back, letting out a small "eep," as a man fell, or was thrown off, a second story balcony. The man proceeded to get up, pull out his gun, and shoot at said balcony.

Originally, she'd figured it would be safer to wait outside, given the ruckus she'd caused earlier. Now, she wasn't so sure.

"'Ello poppet," a voice said behind her. She spun to find an obviously drunken man a few inches from her face. "Yeh lookin' fer a man? I can show yeh a real good time."

"The only thing fouler than your breath is your come-on line," she said, recoiling.

"Careful, luv, yeh wouldn't wan' ta 'urt me feelin's now, would yeh?" he said, reaching out to grab her.

"I'll hurt more'n that," she snarled, slapping his hands away.

"A feisty li'l'un, eh?" he said, displaying a set of crooked and disgusting teeth. "Jus' 'ow I like me women."

Clenching her jaw, she reached for her sword, only then remembering that she'd gotten rid of it in favor of a boot dagger. She started to will a new sword into her hand, but the git was reaching for her again. She dodged out of his reach, grabbing for the dagger instead. He grabbed her just as she brought it out, so she went with the motion, pressing the dagger against his neck so that he could feel it. His eyes widened.

"I said, 'no,'" she hissed dangerously. She shoved against his chest, hard, sending him staggering back a few steps and falling to the ground. "Now run along and sleep it off, you piss-brained sot."

She turned to walk away, but the sound of a weapon being drawn brought her up short. The man was back on his feet, a sword in his wavering grip, but he stopped short as another sword appeared at his throat.

"I believe the lady said no," Malfoy said.

"We was jus' 'avin' a bit o' fun," the man said. "I don' see what diff'rence it makes teh yeh."

"The difference," Malfoy sneered, pulling her into him with one arm, "is you were havin' it with _my_ girl."

Hermione felt her eyebrows rise, but she wasn't about to protest in front of this drunken git.

The man's eyes widened and he mumbled something that might have been an apology before scuttling off to another part of town. The arm around her waist immediately released her.

"I could've handled that –" she started.

"You handled him admirably, Granger, but it hardly seemed fair once he pulled his sword," Malfoy interrupted.

She frowned. "You were there the whole time?"

"For most of it, yes. I found it quite apparent that you didn't need my assistance, up until that last point."

"Oh," she said. Harry and Ron were constantly rescuing her from things, even when she neither needed nor wanted their help. But Malfoy had waited to see if she needed it before stepping in – and she admitted that she had needed it at that point. It was a strange feeling. "Well… thank you."

Her words seemed to surprise him. "You're welcome."

There was an awkward moment before Hermione decided to change the subject. She quickly summarized what she'd heard in the pub, finishing with, "We need to find that treasure and return it to Beesting."

Malfoy frowned, "How do you figure that?"

She shrugged. "It's just how these kinds of stories go. We'll probably have to face Snakeface at some point too, but I know the treasure is important."

He sighed. "Fine. How do you suggest we go about getting it, then?"

"Well, first we need to get the map. I saw the _Blind Basilisk_ in the harbor earlier – we just need to sneak aboard and take it."

He stared at her as if that damned singing head had once again popped from her ear, and had brought its sister to boot.

* * *

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Malfoy grumbled as they neared the _Basilisk_.

"Hush!" she hissed, ducking behind some nearby crates that were stacked on the dock and checking for anyone who had heard or seen them.

"There's no one here," Malfoy commented from the top of the gangplank.

"Malfoy! How did you get up there so fast!? Get down from there before someone sees you!" she cried, trying to keep her voice quiet.

"Who's going to see me? Even those damned birds are asleep." The sound of footsteps in the companionway jerked his head around. "Oh sh…" he said, diving behind a line of barrels onboard.

"Go guard the ship, Rat, they says," a small man grumbled as he appeared on deck. "We'll save you some rum, Pete, they says. I should've known, I should've. They're always doin' it to me. They're all sleepin' like logs, and is there even a bit o' rum left? Nooo, sir. Well I've had it wit' them. We'll see what the cap'n has teh say about this, we will." Moonlight glinted off the silver hook he had in place of his right hand as he scurried past her hiding place.

When he was out of sight, she quickly climbed the gangplank, finding Malfoy crouched behind a barrel. She raised an eyebrow in a silent 'I told you so' then jerked her head towards the captain's quarters. "He's gone to get Snakeface – which means he's not on board. I expect the map will be in his quarters. Let's hurry before they come back," she whispered.

He nodded and they quickly crossed the deck, entering the richly furnished room at the back of the ship. They began searching for the map, but she stopped short as cold steel pressed into her neck.

* * *

A/N: -hides from thrown vegetables- I'll have the next chapter soon I promise!

Thank you for all the reviews!


	5. Joining the Crew

**Disclaimer:** A disclaimer, a disclaimer, my kingdom for a funny disclaimer. ...Wait, I don't have a kingdom. Or Harry Potter. Or a lot of other things.

* * *

Chapter 5 (_Joining the Crew_)

* * *

She froze with a small squeak.

"Scream and I'll cut your throat, wench," Captain Conk growled in her ear. "Who are you? What have you come for?"

She could see Malfoy a few feet away, a shadow within the shadows of the dimly-lit room. "Ahh… Captain Conk, sir?"

Conk's grip on her loosened slightly in what she took to be surprise. "Malloy? What in bloody blazes are you doing here?"

"It's my fault, sir," she said quickly. "I convinced him to help me. You see… umm," she thought quickly. She didn't think she should admit to being after the map to Beesting's treasure. "My father is… in debtor's prison, and my brother… he was sailing back from the Colonies with money he'd earned, so that we could pay off my father's debt. Umm, but the ship was taken by pirates and they – they killed him, my brother, and took his earnings. It was this ship so I was… um, I was looking for the money."

"Is this true, Mr. Malloy?"

"Aye, sir," Malfoy supplied.

"Dunderheads," Conk said in disgust, releasing her with a shove. "No pirate worth his salt keeps booty onboard for long. If they haven't spent it all, they've hidden it somewhere safe."

"I tried to tell her that, sir, but she insisted. I merely came along to make sure she didn't get herself killed," Malfoy inserted.

The sound of voices on the dock brought their heads around.

"Luscious doesn't understand why the captain humors Pete the Rat. If you were to ask Luscious, Luscious would tell you that he finds the man to be incompetent and highly distasteful."

"I don't remember asking your opinion, Luscious," another man's voice said laughingly. "However, I do agree. Pete is incompetent – but he's useful. The crew will have hell to pay if they aren't ready to make way in the morn' due to this stunt."

She blinked. Was that Snakeface? He sounded so… normal.

"Blast and damnation," Conk swore. "Quickly, out the window. If they find you here, it's trouble for us all."

Malfoy got there first, climbing down the rope ladder as if he'd been born and raised doing it. Doing her best not to look down, she followed him into the waiting dinghy.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only three minutes, Conk climbed out the window as well. Finding footholds on the side of the ship, he untied the rope and closed the window, before climbing down with surprising agility. He dropped into the boat, which dipped and swayed, but stayed afloat.

They quickly and silently made their way to land, where Conk hid his dinghy in the bushes. Jerking his head in a clear command to follow, Conk led them to the village and back into the Wolfe's Head.

Hermione watched curiously as John Wolfe shot Conk a dark look, which Conk replied to with a curt nod, leading her and Malfoy up a set of stairs and into a private room.

He then spun to face them with a flourish that, had there been any, would've removed all doubt from her mind that this was Snape. "What were you thinking, Drake? I promoted you after the death of the former first mate, took you into my confidence, and this is how you repay me? You damn near got us caught with that lame-brained ploy." He turned to stare out the small window the room provided. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw you off my ship right now – and nothing about your _bonny lass_," he sneered.

"Well, sir…" Malfoy started. "I'm afraid I don't have a good reason, sir. I did think that maybe she'd be … er, grateful, if you catch my meaning… if I helped her with her plan." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. "But I also thought that it would give me a chance to look around Snakeface's cabin for… information. But I didn't have time to look because you were already there, sir. It won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't," Conk said, turning back towards them and narrowing his eyes. "As it happens, I was able to retrieve what we needed." He pulled a small scroll out of his belt and held it up as he said this, then returned it to its hiding place. "They won't miss it until morning, and they won't be able to do anything about it until the drugged rum wears off."

_Drugged rum_?

"Drugged rum, sir?" Malfoy asked, voicing her thought.

"You thought it chance that the crew was sleeping it off on a night I decide to steal from them?" Conk snorted. "Not bloody likely."

Hermione stared at the place Conk had tucked the scroll away. "Am I to understand, sir, that you intend to sail to the pirate's stockpile?"

"I fail to see how that concerns you," he snapped, before frowning at her quizzically. "You're the wench that marinated Luscious in his own drink."

"I am," she agreed, remembering how he had laughed at the incident.

"Was a waste of good spirits, in my opinion, but rightly deserved," he smirked. Then he shook his head, "Aye, lass. Sorry as I am to hear of your troubles, there's no place for passengers aboard my ship.

She raised her chin defiantly. "Then I shall pull my weight just as the next man."

"She's right clever in a fight, sir," Malfoy added. "I saw her take down a drunkard twice her size with naught but a puny dagger."

"Did you now?" He seemed unimpressed. "Allow me to make myself _perfectly_ clear. There is no place for passengers aboard my ship, nor is there a place for a woman in my crew."

"I can best any of your _crew_ in a fight!" she cried, outraged. She wasn't sure it was true, but this _was_ supposed to be her daydream. "I can do anything anyone of your precious _crew_ can do!"

"Is that so?" he chuckled darkly. "Then you won't mind if I put that theory to the test, then, will you?"

* * *

_What have I gotten myself into?_ she wondered for the hundredth time that morning.

"Well, lass, here's the thing. Outfight my best fighter, then, providing you've all your limbs still attached, scale the rigging, get to the crow's nest before my best climber, and I'll let you join my crew," Conk told her.

"Uhh, it's not to the death, is it?"

Conk raised an eyebrow at her. "Last one standing is the winner."

In the background, she heard someone shouting about bets. "5 teh 1 odds, gents, place yer bets."

"Fine," she said, stepping into the space that had been cleared for the fight.

"Mr. Lobstah, if you please!"

Hermione's eyes widened as the hulking form of Vincent Crabbe stepped forward with a grunted, "Aye, Cap'n."

"Have at it!"

She pulled out her sword just in time to block Lobstah's first thrust. He was surprisingly fast for such an ungainly-looking man. She dodged his attacks, putting the mast of the ship between them. The watching pirates were shouting or jeering, rooting for whichever person they had placed their money on – she didn't hear much encouragement directed at her.

She looked around for something she could use, because she suspected she was no match for him with a sword. She knew she had to end it fast, or she would be too tired to climb the rigging. Not to mention the threat of losing limbs.

Her thought was interrupted as Lobstah slashed at her. She dived away, rolling to her feet to find him almost on top of her again. His sword clashed against hers, sending a painful vibration up her arm, and she had to clench her jaw against crying out.

The crowd cheered Lobstah on when she put the mast between them again. She spotted Malfoy in the crowd, sparing a tenth of a second to wonder at the worry in his expression. His hand was white under the pressure he was applying to the hilt of his sword, obviously restraining himself from coming to her aid.

She clenched her jaw, going on the offensive. She would _not_ be rescued like a daft damsel-in-distress.

She burst from her hiding place with a vicious slash that seemed to catch her opponent off-guard. Metal rang on metal as he brought his sword up in a parry, but she was off and away again before he could retaliate. She spun away as if dancing, holding her sword high. From a few feet away, she raised an eyebrow, challenging Lobstah to come get her. He charged.

She stepped to the side at the last moment, and, in a move she doubted she would be able to imitate in reality, she dropped into a low spin-kick that cut the legs out from under him. She blinked in surprise as he fell, but quickly put the point of her sword against his throat.

There were groans and protests from the crowd. Looking up, she raised an eyebrow at a very surprised-looking Conk. "Aye," he snarled, "the wench won – this round. Mr. Malloy!" he barked.

Malfoy jumped slightly before going over to him. While they had a soft-voiced conversation, she looked up at the crow's nest, swallowing hard. _That's really quite high_, she noted.

Malfoy came over to stand beside her. She raised her eyebrows at him, "You're his best climber?"

He grimaced, "Apparently. He threatened me with… unpleasant things, should I lose."

"First into the nest gets the privilege of being called winner," Conk declared. "On my mark!" He fired his gun into the air and both she and Malfoy started to climb. "With a will, Mr. Malloy!" Conk hollered up.

It really wasn't that bad – until she got high enough that the wind started to pick up. The ship swayed slightly in the tide and the rope webbing seemed to move under her weight. _Don't look down, don't look down_, she chanted, climbing higher and higher towards the nest. _Ohh God._ She'd looked down. Her mouth had gone dry, but she firmed her jaw and began climbing faster, seeing that Malfoy had pulled ahead of her. With her attention diverted, she missed the next cross rope, and she clung breathlessly to the rigging until she was able to regain her footing.

"You alright?" he asked, pausing.

She nodded. "Keep going or you'll get in trouble." They were both almost to the top now and were roughly equal with each other. "Shall we tie?" she asked, remembering what he'd said about losing.

Malfoy blinked in surprise. "I don't imagine Conk would react well to that."

She shrugged, then tightened her grip in alarm as the rope swayed. "He can't accuse either of us of losing."

He frowned, but nodded, and they hurried the few remaining feet to the nest, climbing in at the same time. She put her back against the mast, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths.

"Err, Hermione?"

She opened her eyes to find Malfoy looking at her worriedly. "I don't really like heights," she admitted.

He nodded. "I know, but… I think we need to go back down."

She paled, feeling slightly nauseous. "Alright," she said faintly.

Down turned out to be easier than up.

"Well? Who won, Mr. Malloy?" Conk demanded.

"It was a tie, sir," Malfoy reported.

Conk looked like he'd eaten a lemon.

* * *

**A/N:** This was surprisingly difficult to write. (It also turned out to be the longest chapter yet.) Originally I had planned to reveal some backstory in there, but Conk refused to give up his precious secrets in front of Hermione! And then he nearly left her behind!

That would've been bad.

(Yes, I'm talking about my characters as if they're real. No, I'm not ... um. well I'm not _completely_ insane, I don't think? Maybe? I don't know.)

Once again, thank you all for your kind reviews!


	6. Potatoes, Prisoners, and Prejudice

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it, I really really don't.

_**A/N**_: Yep, I'm putting one at the top. I just wanted to warn you; this chapter isn't the usual Light 'n' Fluffy of the previous chapters. Some of the Light 'n' Fluffy ('n' Ridiculous) will return next chapter.

* * *

Chapter 6 (_Potatoes, Prisoners, and Pr_e_judice_)

* * *

Hermione was peeling a seemingly unending pile of potatoes, grumbling about malodorous pirates and greasy gits and big-nosed bats all the while. "_You've got to start at the bottom_,_ lass_," she sneered mockingly. And damn that self-satisfied smirk when he'd said it!

"I thought you were supposed to be a smart one, Granger," Malfoy commented.

She started, looking up to find him leaning against the wall nearby. "I don't know what you mean," she said, irrationally angry that he'd reverted back to using her surname and taking it out on the poor innocent potato. She hadn't noticed that he had called her 'Hermione' at the time, but now that she had, she wasn't about to mention it to him. The potato went into the large pot but promptly bounced back out, just to spite her.

"I _mean_, why aren't you using magic?"

"I don't have my wand." An instant later, she smacked herself on the forehead. "Don't. Don't even say it," she warned him, willing her wand into existence.

When she turned around from spelling the potatoes into peeling themselves, she turned around to find him grinning at her. That open, honest grin – not his usual self-satisfied, evil smirk – almost seemed to transform him into a completely different person. It faltered when he saw her staring at him.

"Are you done here?" he asked.

"Umm," she said, looking at the potatoes, cooking over the small stove. "Yeah, I think so."

"C'mon then," he said jerking his head towards the door. "Maybe he'll talk to you."

"Who?" she questioned as he dragged her below deck. "Malfoy!" she exclaimed, jerking them both to a halt. "Maybe _who_ will talk to me?"

He sighed. "I don't know his name in this crazy place, but it's Potter. He's through there," he added, gesturing.

Her mouth dropped open in a silent 'oh' of surprise. "He tried to _kill_ me last time. Why would he talk to _me_?"

He shrugged. "Conk didn't remember you from last time – why should he? Besides, it's worth a shot, isn't it?"

"I suppose," she frowned. Going in the indicated direction, she found herself in an area with two steel bar cells on opposite sides of the hold. Harry was pacing inside of one, looking murderous – though not quite as insane as she remembered. The emerald-green eyes locked onto her as she entered.

"Who're you?" he demanded.

She didn't see any harm in telling him her name. "Hermione Granger. What's your name?" she asked politely.

He seemed surprised. "Gryffin Jameson," he said. Then he frowned, "Do I know you?"

"No, I don't think so. That's an interesting name you have, Gryffin," she smiled. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Malfoy sidle into the room.

He smiled boyishly. "I chose it meself. Jameson after me father, Gryffin for me uncle's company."

"You chose your own name?" she asked, genuinely surprised. "My parents named me."

"I'm an orphan, miss. Me uncle has been takin' care of me since I can remember," he said sadly. Anger flashed in his eyes. "Snakeface killed 'em – me parents, that is."

She gasped, playing the roll of sympathetic, dim-witted female. "I am so sorry. That's just terrible. But, Gryffin, how did you come to be here, on this ship?"

He growled, "_Conk_. He and me uncle were friends once, but he stole somethin' of me uncle's and we've been tryin' to get it back. Someone knocked me out durin' a raid, an' I've been 'ere ever since." He frowned again, suddenly suspicious, "'ow did such a nice lady like you come to be aboard this bedamned – pardon me language, miss – ship?"

"Oh, uh," she stammered. "They took the ship I was on, and now they plan to get a ransom from my father, I think. They don't seem to mind me moving about, so I've been exploring the ship." She was just full of lies, wasn't she?

Gryffin seemed to accept this. "Aye, they be no better'n pirates, miss, no matter if they're privateers. The _Bloody Phoenix _'olds 'erself to 'igher standards."

"Would you tell me more about your uncle, Gryffin?" she asked, smiling.

He grinned again. "Aye, miss. Cap'n Beesting – tha's me uncle – is the greatest sailor on these waters, to be sure. He's a merchant sailor for the Gryffindor Tradin' Comp'ny, bu' he and I 'ave sworn to get revenge on Snakeface for what 'e did to our family, miss. Snakeface is one of the last true pirates left sailin' the seven seas."

"You said Captain Conk stole something of Captain Beesting's?" she asked, digging for more information.

Gryffin nodded. "I don't know what it was, miss, bu' me uncle 'asn't been the same since its loss."

Hermione frowned, "Are you sure Captain Conk was the one who took it?"

He nodded again, "Me uncle said it was."

"But how did he know?"

Gryffin didn't seem to have an answer for her.

"You said your uncle and Conk were friends once, didn't you?" She asked hesitantly. If Gryffin's temperament was the same as Harry's, he was going to get upset soon.

"Aye, the trait'rous, thieving ingrate," Gryffin spat. "Conk promised to help us kill Snakeface, an' now the bloody cur 'as changed sides!"

She glanced at Malfoy, and he took it as a sign that she was done – which is what it was meant to be.

"Oi! You're not supposed to be down here, you!" he exclaimed coming out of the shadows by the door and grabbing her by the wrist. "Get back on deck, where yeh belong!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know," she said. "'Bye, Gryffin."

"Get your filthy trait'rous 'ands offa 'er!" he yelled rattling the bars of his cell angrily.

Then they were out of the room and Malfoy instantly let go of her. She bit her lip, thinking of the other times Malfoy had touched her, but let go the second he was able to. Was touching a Mudblood that repulsive? Her steps faltered at that thought. With all the excitement, she'd all but forgotten that this wasn't reality, that she and Malfoy were enemies, that there were no pirates or treasure or sword-fighting.

_Only magic and death and stupid blood propaganda_, she thought sardonically.

"Well, that was informative," she said, trying to act as if those awful thoughts hadn't occurred to her.

"Indeed. In some ways, this story is starting to resemble reality," he murmured thoughtfully.

"In what way?" she asked, surprised.

He shook his head and didn't answer at first. They were almost back to the ship's galley when he said, "Not all Slytherins side with You-Know-Who, Granger."

Before she could form a response, someone called him away, and she was left standing there, looking after him with wide eyes.

* * *

Come dinnertime, Hermione found herself in the Officer's mess hall, sitting at a table with Conk, Malfoy, and a few other people she didn't recognize. The stew she'd made earlier was being divvied up, and Conk was the first one to taste it.

Hermione found herself holding her breath as his eyes narrowed and he slowly chewed the mouthful and swallowed. He brought his linen napkin up to his mouth and wiped it slowly, then reached for his wine glass. "Needs more seasoning," he announced gruffly and reached for the salt cellar.

She let out her breath as everyone started digging in, chattering and laughing loudly.

Her mind wandered as she ate, thinking over what Gryffin had said – and what Malfoy had said afterwards.

Obviously, the thing Beesting accused Conk of stealing was the thing the _Basilisk_'s crew had stolen.

She glanced up just in time to see Malfoy look away from her. He'd said that this story was starting to resemble reality… but what did he mean? Snape had never stolen anything of Dumbledore's, that she knew of, nor did Dumbledore distrust Snape – quite the opposite, in fact.

_But everyone else does_! Harry – Ron – nearly everyone in the Order would be more than willing to blame their problems on Snape… or any other Slytherin, she realized abruptly. So if what Malfoy said was true then – and it had to be, didn't it? Being in one particular house didn't dictate your life – no one would believe a Slytherin who wanted to change sides.

_Change sides_? She froze as that phrase echoed in her mind. She couldn't believe that that she had written all Slytherins off as guilty when she knew nothing about them. _They're not __**changing**__ sides if they haven't even chosen one yet_.

She looked up to find Malfoy watching her with a strange expression on his face, as if she were a particularly complex puzzle to be solved.

* * *

Later that night, after most of the crew had turned in, Hermione stood at the bow of the ship, watching as the moon slowly rose, low and bloated on the horizon. She didn't recognize any of the constellations, so she made up a few, smiling faintly when her connect-the-dots formed odd shapes.

She glanced behind her at the sound of footsteps crossing the deck. He didn't say anything, coming up to lean against the railing beside her.

A light breeze played with her curls and ruffled his short, silvery hair, gently mussing it.

His eyes made patterns in the night sky as hers had done only moments before.

Not wanting to break the silence, she returned her gaze to the moon. A small smile returned to her face when shadows and a bit of imagination mixed to form a smiling face looking back at her. She remembered when she was younger, how her father had told her about 'the man in the moon' and she had told him '_looks more like a girl to me_.'

"We don't… find glory in it, you know," Malfoy said. Hermione blinked as her train of thought fell off the track and exploded. Recovering, she tilted her head slightly so she could see his face, still tilted skywards. "What our parents do, that is," he continued. "Not like we pretend to."

He paused, as though gathering his thoughts. She wondered what he was thinking under that shuttered expression. "Sure, most of us believe what our parents tell us, how can we not? But most of us realize, now, what death really is – and we know that our parents cause that, sometimes on massive scales." His jaw clenched tightly, and Hermione wondered what his reaction had been when he first realized this about his own father.

Finally he looked directly at her. "It was you – you and your friends – that made most of us realize what was going on. _You_ – a _Mudblood_ –" she clenched her jaw at this, but he didn't seem to notice, "you were getting the top grades, not a Pureblood. And it wasn't like you were the exception to a rule – others like you were getting top marks, as well. Potter – in fourth year – he showed us what the man our parents idolize was really capable of. We knew his story was true, long before anyone else did."

"If that's true," she said quietly, "why do you act… like you do?"

He let out a soft huff of laughter, looking amused at her naivety. "What would you think, Hermione, if all – or even most – of the Slytherins started 'changing sides' or 'acting nice' or whatever you wanted to call it? Even though we may not side with You-Know-Who, that doesn't mean we agree with all of Dumbledore's ideals either, or particularly wish to be ordered around by him and his minions. You know that they would never trust any of us, not really. And there are still those that believe the propaganda and… would see such a change as an act of treachery."

"Oh," she grimaced. "I do see your point… but you wouldn't _have_ to join the fight on Dumbledore's side either, you know."

He snorted. "People like Potter and the Weasleys – they only see two sides. It's all about 'us' or 'them.' There is nothing in-between."

She wanted desperately to refute that – but she couldn't. They would both know it was a lie. "Why are you telling me this, Draco?" The name felt strange and awkward on her tongue.

His eyes snapped to her as she said it, but he didn't comment. He shrugged, almost imperceptibly. "I don't know. Because I wanted to… and because you aren't the person I thought you were."

Her mouth went dry. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Oh, it's a good thing," he said with a small smile.

* * *

_**A/N: **_See? Serious stuff.

Anyway, I have two things to say. First: I wasn't really happy with the fight scene between Hermione and "Lobstah" last chapter, so I went back and added to it! It's nothing story-altering, but if you weren't pleased with it either, you should go give it another look.

Second: Thank you for all your reviews!


	7. Snakes, Spiders, and Scorpions, Oh My!

**Brief recap:** The crew of the _Blind Basilisk_ stole Captain Beesting's mysterious 'treasure' and hid it away. Beesting believes that Conk was the one to have stolen it, thus Conk is trying to get it back from the _Basilisk_ to return to Beesting. Hermione and Draco just want to get the hell out of this daydream.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. There, that was easy, wasn't it? Oh. I don't own Indiana Jones either. Or The Mummy. Or Pirates of the Caribbean, or -scene fades to black- ... -scene fades back in to reveal the author still rambling about things she doesn't own, and the audience all asleep- Oh fine, go on then.

* * *

Chapter 7 (_Snakes, Spiders, and Scorpions, oh my_!)

* * *

Hammocks are evil creatures, especially to sleep in. Or _try_ to sleep in, rather. You shift too much to one side and before you kn–

_Thwump_.

"Ow," she groaned from her new position on the floor. At least she hadn't landed on her face.

She sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes and looking around blearily. The rest of the crew had vanished, presumably to do their jobs on deck.

Yawning, she stumbled up the companionway, squinting at the brightly lit deck. Everyone seemed to be excited, running around hither and thither. Finally, she asked a passing sailor, "What's all the excitement?"

"Landfall, ma'am," the petite young man said. A wisp of auburn hair escaped his bandanna, and freckles dusted his tanned face.

She blinked. "Ginny?"

The 'man' stiffened. "Me name be Virgil Mustelid, ma'am."

"Oh," she yawned again, covering it with her hand. "Excuse me. I'd mistaken you for someone else."

The sailor nodded and returned to 'his' business. Hermione was absolutely positive that that was Ginny in disguise, and she frowned, wondering if 'Virgil' had come aboard with Neville and Kingsley. _Mustelid_, she grinned. Definitely Ginny.

Shaking her head, she looked around until she'd spotted the looming landmass, still quite a ways off. It was good to see, even if they'd only been at sea for a day.

Draco came up to stand beside her, and she gave him a sideways look. She noticed his nose was sunburned. "Don't you ever work?"

"Delegation is the privilege of rank, Granger," he said with a grin.

She snorted. "How long until we actually get there?"

"At this rate? Minutes," he shook his head. "We jumped about two thousand leagues overnight… whatever the hell that is."

"A league is about three miles," she said distractedly. "That's quite a jump – but it is a dream, I suppose."

It was about fifteen minutes later that Conk appeared on deck. "Mr. Malloy, Lobstah, Gar, prepare to go ashore!" he roared.

She stepped forward, "I'm going too!"

He rolled his eyes. "Aye, far be it from me to stop you." His gaze snapped to Kingsley, who was at the helm. "Mr. Legiron, you have the helm."

With Lobstah and Gar (Crabbe and Goyle) doing the rowing, the five of them went to shore in a small dinghy. Once they'd reached the beach, Malfoy jumped out and offered her his hand.

With a mental shrug, she took it. It was cool and dry, firm with a few calluses – and was she seriously _critiquing_ his hand? She reluctantly let go when he pulled away to help Lobstah and Gar pull the boat onto the beach.

Conk scowled at them impatiently. "C'mon you sorry lot, we've work to do."

* * *

The jungle was alive with the sound of exotic birdcalls. Or were those monkeys? Probably some of both, really. There was the sound of running water, somewhere to her right, but she had yet to catch sight of it. The air was sweltering, thick with the scent of fruits and flowers that she didn't recognize and that… green smell, that she associated with a hothouse. The tops of the trees swayed in a breeze that didn't reach the ground floor, setting shadows to dancing around them.

"Granger!" Draco hissed, grabbing her hand and jerking her back a step. "Watch where you're going!"

She'd been watching her feet to make sure she didn't fall over any tree roots. She looked up, ready and willing to be annoyed at him. Her eyes widened and she took a quick step backwards with a squeak of surprise. There was a giant snake hanging down from the overhanging tree branch, directly in her path.

"Afraid of snakes?" he chuckled.

She eyed the snake dubiously. "Never."

This time, he didn't let go of her hand, which was fine with her.

* * *

Conk stopped abruptly in a small clearing. It was surrounded on three sides by jungle, but directly ahead was a sheer rock face. There was a large oblong boulder in the center, hidden almost completely amongst the tall grass.

"Where do we go from here?" Hermione asked.

"Start looking for a hidden latch or lever," Conk commanded, ignoring her question.

While Lobstah and Gar looked around stupidly, Hermione and Draco went right for the half-hidden boulder. Spotting a hole large enough for a hand, she nodded at it. "Here," she said to Conk, who came over.

"Aye, looks promising," he agreed.

Hermione reached forward, but Draco pushed her hand away, "Allow me."

She rolled her eyes, "Alright then."

"Careful lad, you never know what these ancient ruin-types have waiting in store for you," Conk told him.

Draco slowly put his hand into the opening. "I think–" he started, then cut himself off with a yelp of pain.

"Draco!" Hermione gasped.

He burst out laughing, "Sorry, couldn't resist."

She smacked him on the arm, "That was terrible."

Conk slapped him (much harder than she had) on the back of the head. "Stop playing the fool for your lassie and get on with it, boy."

Grimacing slightly, he reached in deeper and twisted something.

With a loud grinding rumble, an opening appeared in the rock face.

At a motion from Conk, Lobstah and Gar lit a pair of torches and disappeared into the darkness.

"'Tis clear, Cap'n," one of them called back. Who cares which one, really?

They entered the passageway. It was dank, dark, disgusting, and other such words one might associate with a cave. Hermione willed a torch of her own into existence when she almost tripped over a loose stone.

They traveled in silence for about ten minutes until they reached a fork in the passage, whereupon Conk pulled out the map and scowled at it. "Mr. Malloy, take your wench and explore the left passage. Lobstah, Gar, with me."

Exchanging a look, they continued down the left passage, while the other three went to the right. Stalactites and stalagmites lined the cave like stony teeth, water dripping from them like saliva – and she really should stop that particular thought pattern. The light from the torch struggled with the shadows, illuminating the mold that grew in many different colors on the walls.

Her nose wrinkled from the almost overwhelming smell of dirt and decay in the cold, damp air.

Nearly stumbling over a loose stone (again) she began to watch her footing carefully. Unfortunately, this meant she wasn't watching where she was going, and she stepped directly through a large spider web. "Ugh!" she exclaimed, wrestling it off her face. Draco glanced at her. "Spider web," she explained, cringing and rubbing her hands together to make sure she'd gotten it all.

"Ah," he said. "I'd thought you'd just gone spastic." Before she could form a response, his eyes widened, looking just over her head. "Granger – don't. Move."

She froze. Her scalp itched. "What is it?" she whispered. _Spider web_s _mean spiders_… "Oh god." Her scalp twitched again. He wasn't looking _over_ her head. "Get it off, getitoff getitoff!"

"Don't move," he repeated, slowly coming closer. Then with a motion almost too quick to track, he lashed out, backhanding the thing off her hair.

Now her whole body felt like it was being crawled on. "Did you get it? Is it gone? Oh god, it feels like they're all over me."

"Turn around and I'll make sure," he said.

She slowly spun, one arm dangling at her side, the other holding the torch aloft. She heard him take another step closer to her, felt him gather up her hair – perhaps more slowly than strictly necessary – and gently placed it over her shoulder. She could feel the heat of his breath tickling the back of her neck. His fingertips whispered against the fabric of her shirt… and then he'd stepped away again. "It's gone," he confirmed.

"Thanks," she said, shivering. Because of the spiders, of course.

They continued carefully down the passageway, avoiding all further spider webs.

Their steps faltered when they spotted the partial cave-in ahead. Light streamed in, dust-motes dancing in the air. Spider webs covered the only way past the tumbled rocks. Picking up a stick from amongst the rocks, Draco dislodged the webs, then climbed through the hole. "Coming, Granger?" he called back.

Following his example, she climbed up the rock pile and through the hole. On the other side, she took the hand that he offered and carefully navigated the downslope until she was on the floor again.

Something skittered away from the light as they passed – several somethings, in fact – and Hermione found herself drawing closer and closer to Draco until they were nearly touching. Light glinted oddly from the water running down the walls, making her jumpy.

They kept going until they reached a set of wide, rough-hewn stone stairs going upwards. They hesitated, exchanging a look.

"Maybe we should go back…" Hermione began, looking over her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she watched shadows scurry around, just outside the firelight, climbing over each other and getting increasingly closer to the light. "Um, or not."

"C'mon Granger, what could possibly go wrong?" he asked, starting up the stairs.

"He had to say it…" she muttered, going after him.

* * *

"Run faster, Granger!" Draco shouted

"You had to say those goddamned words!" she shrieked at him, willing her legs to go faster.

"This is my fault now!?" he yelled, ducking down a side passage. She turned to follow, near falling before getting her legs going in the right direction.

The thing behind them chittered angrily as it used its many legs to take the turn, pushing off the walls.

"You were – the one – that kicked – its babies!" she panted. Her lungs were burning and her legs were starting to feel like lead.

"Pardon me – for not – wanting to get – eaten!" he panted back, ducking down another corridor.

She followed, only to find the corridor empty. She cursed under her breath, not slowing down. Something snagged her arm, spinning her around, and a hand clamped over her mouth before she'd found breath to scream.

She'd dropped the torch a long time ago, but there was enough light from bioluminescent fungus on the wall to tell that it was Draco. He'd found a small niche, barely large enough for both of them – and certainly not large enough for the monster chasing them.

"And how's that working out for you?" she hissed acerbically, once he'd removed his hand.

He shushed her as the monster skittered to a halt nearby. Angry high-pitched chittering grated against her eardrums painfully as it picked up speed and continued past their hiding place.

Soon all she could hear was her own heartbeat and their accelerated intake of breath. She could still smell dirt, but now there was perspiration and something else – Draco's cologne? – in the air. Overall, it wasn't unpleasant.

She looked up to find him watching her, eyes like a pair of shadowed moons in the dim glow of the fungi. "What the hell was that thing?" he asked softly.

"I imagine it'd be the scorpion version of an Acromantula, though I hadn't actually heard of such a thing," she replied, keeping her voice low.

He shook his head, though at what she wasn't sure. "C'mon, I think I know where we need to go," he said, taking her hand.

* * *

He led her down a set of stone stairs, which let out into a large cavern-like space. A faint glow emanated from the water that lapped in from three different tunnels, creating shimmering spots on the ceiling. The room was filled with gold, spilling out of every kind of container imaginable. On a raised pedestal in the center sat a small chest with a stylized phoenix embossed on the lid, presumably holding the item they were looking for.

Conk was already present, examining the chest and the pedestal for booby-traps. Gar and Lobstah were rifling through the surrounding treasure.

Hermione felt irrationally upset that they had been beaten to the room.

Conk looked up when they walked into the room. "About time you decided to join us. We'd been beginning to think you'd found something more… _interesting_ to do," he leered with a lift of one eyebrow.

The lackeys chuckled stupidly at this. Hermione twitched, restraining the impulse to do… very violent things. Even Draco grimaced.

A few minutes later they picked up the chest and began towards the nearest exit. Lobstah and Gar fell in behind them, pockets full of loot.

They got back to the entrance without incident using Conk's route. Hermione noticed with annoyance that it had significantly fewer dangers than the path that she and Draco had taken. She was relieved when the doorway came into view. All she could think of was how much her feet hurt and that she really, really wanted a bath. They went out into the clearing and before they took more than three steps, a figure stepped out from the trees, halting them in their collective tracks.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, so. First off, I'm sorry that this one took so long. (It took 4 days! sheesh.) I was trying to force more romance into it than my characters were ready for, apparently. (My characters won on that front.)

Secondly, I'd like to say 'Happy Birthday!' to one of my faithful reviewers, Quik-wit.

Thirdly, and as ever, _Thank You_ for all your reviews.

I don't know when I'll have the next chapter ready, but reviews do make my fingers type faster!


	8. Ever Afters

**Disclaimer:** -Lawyer walks up- "Excuse me, miss. I have reason to believe you've infringed on quite a few copy rights..."

Me: -waggles fingers in his face- "This is not the fanfiction author you are looking for!"

Lawyer: "Oh, sorry."

**A/N:** Okay, another Author's note at the top. I just wanted to mention, the next two chapters are somewhat violent, though not graphic. Semi-important note at the bottom.

* * *

Chapter 8 (_Ever Afters_)

* * *

"Well, well, Luscious is very disappointed in you, Conk," said the figure, leaning on his cane. Hermione glanced around as several other men stepped out of the jungle, swords drawn. "Captain Snakeface decided to test your loyalty, and Luscious is sorry to inform you that you've failed dismally."

"Indeed?" queried Conk. "I'm sorry as well. I was unaware I was under such scrutiny. Perhaps I can still make amends?"

"Oi, you two wit' yer fancy speakin', why don' you jus' come out an' say what yeh mean?" Pete the Rat said, brandishing his silver hook.

Conk smiled nastily, "Oh, you're quite right, Pete. Perhaps this will clear things up for you." With that, he pulled out his pistol in the blink of an eye and shot the ratty little man. Pete looked down at his wound, blinked, then fell over.

Hermione gasped and took a step back as Conk, Lobstah, and Gar all drew their swords and began fighting with the pirates, Beesting's treasure all but forgotten.

"'Ello, poppet," a familiar voice drawled in her ear. A hand clamped over her mouth and the pirate began to drag her away from the fray. "Yer not gettin' away this time, luv."

She bit his hand, and he pulled it away with a yelp. "Drac –" her scream was cut off when he clamped his other hand on her mouth and put a dagger to her neck.

"None o' that, now," he growled, dragging her further into the jungle. "Yer li'l pretty boy took away me fun las' time, but not again."

"Where's Hermione? Hermione!" Draco's voice yelled.

She tried to make some kind of noise in response, but then the man hooked his thumb over her nose and she couldn't _breathe._ She stomped on his foot, wincing as she felt his blade knick her skin, but it got the desired effect – he'd removed his hand again. "DRACO!"

The man shoved her to the ground. With an ugly, feral grin, he dropped to straddle her hips, pinning her arms above her head. "'e ain't comin', luv," he murmured. "The boys from the _Basilisk_ 'ave 'im nice an' occupied, I'd 'magine."

Then he crashed his mouth onto hers with bruising force, biting at her lips. She bit his tongue when he forced it into her mouth, but this only seemed to please him. She tried to squirm out of his grip, but he was too heavy.

Abruptly his whole body stiffened, and he drew away from her with a gasp. He rolled off her, the sword that was now sticking out of his back propping him up slightly.

She looked up to find Draco standing not far away, looking vaguely sick. He offered her his hand, which she took, quickly standing up. "You alright?" he asked.

She nodded, looking towards the dead man for a moment, and quickly away again. Her hand lifted to the cut on her neck. It hurt, but wasn't deep enough to be worrisome.

Draco walked over to him, kicking him to lay on his front, and pulling the sword out. "Always wanted to do that. I didn't recognize him when we were in town."

She frowned. "Who is it?"

"Fenrir Greyback."

Her mouth dropped open in a silent 'oh.' She grimaced as she tasted his blood in her mouth – from when she bit him – and quickly spat it out. "I've heard stories about him, but I'd never seen what he looked like."

Draco's jaw clenched and he looked towards the direction in which sword fighting could be heard. "C'mon, we need to go help Conk."

Wondering what had caused the sudden change in his attitude, she nodded and followed behind him.

They found Lobstah and Gar still in the clearing, fighting off two men apiece.

She watched, aghast, as these men were dispatched, wondering when the daydream had gotten so violent. Then the sea raid from her first visit flashed through her mind and she realized it'd been violent from the start.

"Where'd Conk go?" Draco demanded.

"Draco, the chest!" Hermione exclaimed as some bloke appeared out of the jungle and started to run off with it.

"Shit!" he exclaimed, taking off after him, Hermione hot on his heels.

Lobstah and Gar soon caught up, then passed them, bearing down on the thief.

Abruptly, Draco stopped short. "Wait," he hissed, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Well, what 'ave we 'ere? Fightin' over _Phoenix_ property? 'Ow shameful!" It was Ron's voice. "Gred! Forge! Make sure there ain't more of 'em lurkin' about!"

"C'mon," Draco mouthed, starting to back away from the voices.

"What do we do with these, Mr. Weatherby, sir?" That sounded like Seamus Finnigan.

"Put 'em with the others, O'Flaherty," Ron responded.

"Two more, sir!" one of the twins called from… above?

Her gaze snapped to the forest canopy just as a grinning redheaded blur dropped down on Draco, driving them both to the ground. A thud behind her gave her half a second's warning before an arm wrapped around her neck. Her fingers wrapped around it reflexively.

"Don' scream, an' I won' give yeh a reason to, savvy?" George hissed in her ear.

She nodded mutely as Fred bound Draco's hands and forced him to his feet. George released her, pushing her along before him, but leaving her hands untied.

They were taken to the harbor. Her eyes immediately went to the horizon, looking for the _Silver Doe_. It was present, along with the _Phoenix_, though there was no activity on the _Doe_. She frowned, wondering what was going on.

"Keep movin', wench," one of the twins growled.

Scowling, she continued down to the group of people waiting on the sand. Her steps faltered when she saw a very cross-looking Conk standing at sword point, while Luscious, Gar, and Lobstah were bound and on their knees. Only Luscious was gagged and he looked highly indignant.

She recognized several faces amongst their captors – Ron, Seamus, Dean Thomas, and Lee Jordan to name a few. Ron was obviously the one in charge. The chest sat at his feet.

"That the lot of 'em?" he called to his brothers.

"Aye, sir!" they chorused.

"This one 'ere 'as called for parley," he gestured to Conk. "Wretched pirate code. Rather 'ang 'im meself, but I think the Cap'n might wan' a word with 'im."

"Aye, 'magine so," Fred sneered.

Soft footsteps on the sand heralding his arrival, Beesting walked up to them, eyes latched onto the treasure chest. He seemed younger than the Dumbledore she knew, but it was still obviously him. He had an auburn beard that went to mid-chest, rather than a white beard to his knees, and he stood straighter… livelier. He was tanned and had fewer wrinkles.

Overall, he looked like the cliché of a merchant captain, rather than a cliché of a wise old wizard.

"Mr. Weatherby, if you would?" he said, gesturing at the box.

"Of course, sir," Ron responded, picking up the box and holding it out to his captain.

Beesting retrieved a key from around his neck, and unlocked the chest. He flipped the lid open and smiled delightedly. Inside was…

"_Lemon drops_!?" Draco exclaimed. "All that over some stupid candy?!" For his trouble he got a mouthful of sand as Fred shoved him down.

Beesting neatly unwrapped one, placing it in his mouth as if he were a chocolate connoisseur sampling the best chocolate in the world. Some of the tension went out of his face, making him look even younger. Hermione glanced around confusedly as Beesting's crew all let out sighs of relief as well.

"Not just any lemon drops, my boy," Beesting said after a moment. "Cursed lemon drops. I foolishly imbibed in one, a few years back, and now I must keep a steady supply – you've seen what happens when I fail to do so." He turned to Conk, making a motion to the men holding him. "In that regard, I must apologize to you, Captain Conk."

Conk raised an eyebrow and inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement.

Two figures climbed down from the _Doe_ and swam to shore. "Oi!" Gryffin shouted, waving. 'Virgil' was with him.

Ron and Gryffin met up in a manly embrace, slapping each other on the back.

"Oi, Virginia, whatchoo think yer doin' out 'ere?" Fred frowned.

"Shove it, Forge, did you really think I was gonna let me man stay a' the mercy o' a pack o' pirates?"

"I'm Gred," he complained.

"Sure yah are, bu' don' be changin' the subject, I've as much right to be 'ere as you," she said, removing her bandanna and fluffing her long auburn hair.

"Aww, Gin, 'tis good tah see yeh though," Gred said, giving her a hug. She squealed as he picked her up and spun her around.

Conk looked at the pair with narrowed eyes. "Clever as always, Beesting," he noted. "I assume it was Legiron who notified you we were here?"

"I was unaware that young Miss Weatherby had slipped aboard as well," Beesting admitted. "But yes, Mr. Legiron was working for me."

"His loyalty remains with the highest bidder, I see," Conk said.

"As always," Beesting chuckled.

"Shall we put an end to this adventure, then?"

"Hmm, yes. It's long past time, I believe."

Shaking her head over how quickly things had changed, Hermione went over to Draco, who lay on his side in the sand, unable to get up because of his bound hands.

"This is one crazy-ass dream, Granger," he noted as she crouched behind him and cut his hands free.

"You're just realizing that now?" she asked, grinning sardonically.

Lobstah and Gar were soon released as well.

"Mmph!" Luscious protested when he remained tied.

Conk strolled over to him and raised an eyebrow, smiling devilishly.

* * *

"Loose canvas! Make quick! We've a crippled snake to finish off, boys!"

It had been decided that she and Draco would stay on the _Phoenix_ while Gryffin and Virginia would go with the _Doe_ as a gesture of good faith. The still-loyal crew of the _Doe_ were released from the brig – where Legiron, Shortstack, Virginia, and Gryffin had dragged them after the coup. Luscious had revealed that the _Basilisk _was anchored on the other side of the island, so the _Phoenix _and the _Doe_ would circle around from opposite sides to catch the _Basilisk_ unaware.

The twins climbed like monkeys up the rigging, quickly unfurling the sails. Other people scurried around, hauling on ropes and making ready to go out to open ocean.

"Sir," a gruff voice started. Her gaze snapped up to see Moody, with an eye patch, peg leg, and a parrot on his shoulder. "'Tis bad luck to be bringin' a woman aboard, Cap'n. No good will come of it, mark my words."

Beesting raised an eyebrow. "And would you have me leave her here, stranded, with naught but jungle for miles in any direction, Mr. Morose?"

"Auck, walk the plank!" the parrot declared. Moody's hand snapped up to clench the bird's beak shut. He forced a smile – which wasn't very pleasant on his lopsided face – and said, "No, sir."

Beesting eyed the bird, but said, "Very good. Return to your station, Mr. Morose. The _Basilisk_ can't be far."

"Aye, sir." He turned and thumped his way up the stairs to the ship's wheel.

With a glance at Draco, she climbed up after him curiously. "Mr. Morose?" she queried.

The man spun, single eye wide. His face twitched, but he said, "Aye, lass. Sullen N. Morose, at yer service."

"Constant vigilance, auck!" the parrot cried.

She fought down a smile. "If I may ask, _why_ is it bad luck to have a woman aboard?"

Morose seemed surprised. "It angers the sea, lass, an' distracts the crew."

She looked down at the busily working men below. "I can't speak for the sea, but they don't seem distracted to me."

He turned to look as well. "No, I s'pose not. 'Ceptin' that one that came wit' yeh."

With a start, she realized Draco was indeed watching her. Their eyes met for a brief moment before he looked away. "Umm, right," she said, turning her attention back to Morose, who had an eyebrow raised knowingly. She felt heat rise to her cheeks, so she changed the subject. "There is one other thing I was curious about."

"Aye, lass, what would that be?"

"The – ah – cursed lemon drops? What precisely happens when –" she paused, not sure how to say it.

"Ahh, the curse. They say that the chest is bottomless, an infinite supply for whosoever is unlucky enough to need it. They say –"

"Whoever eats the candy has infinite knowledge!" interrupted a small man. He had wide, overlarge green eyes, with a thin nose. He looked like a teenager, though he was only about three feet tall.

"I'm tellin' the story, Robby!" Morose growled.

"Sorry, sir!" he said, though his grin said he wasn't.

"Auck, dead men tell no tales!" the parrot declared.

"That's the story, anyway," Morose continued, glaring at Robby. "I don' believe it, meself – too many missions gone astray."

"So what happens when the supply is cut off?" she asked pensively.

Robby's grin faltered. "Terrible things, Miss. Terrible."

"Aye, affects the whole crew, it does. Makes us paranoid-like, chasin' our own shadows. Unpleasant business," Morose said gruffly.

"Oh. So that's why Captain Beesting thought that it was Captain Conk who stole it?"

Robby and Morose exchanged a look. "Aye, 'magine so," Morose said finally.

"Whoops, I need to get the Cap'n his tea!" Robby exclaimed, dashing off.

"Strange li'l lad. We rescued 'im from the _Basilisk_ a ways back. Used ta serve old _Luscious_," he sneered the name. "Insists on doin' errands an' the like for Cap'n Beesting now."

Hiding a smile, she said, "Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Morose."

He nodded, and she jumped down the steep steps just as they entered open water. She joined Draco at the side of the ship, where they stood in silence.

"Look," Draco said, nodding slightly to the side.

She looked. Dolphins were swimming alongside the ship, squeaking and clicking as they jumped and played. She grinned, "I love dolphins."

"Aye," Beesting said, from beside her, making her jump slightly. "They be a good omen. Lad, inform Mr. Morose of their presence – it will even his temper for the voyage."

Sending Beesting a suspicious glance, Draco reluctantly left.

"I've heard… differing tales, regarding yourself, Miss Granger," he said, looking at her inquisitively. "I won't ask you to reveal all your secrets – 'twould be a futile request of any a woman – but I do wonder at your purpose here."

She looked away from him, watching the dolphins. "I want to see the _Basilisk_ defeated, once and for all."

"Ah," he said, and she looked at him to see the famous twinkle in his eye. "Very good." With that, he left.

She raised an eyebrow, looking after him. "Alrighty then."

* * *

**A/N:** This story is within two chapters of being done.

I just put up a poll (a couple days ago) so, if anyone would be interested in a sequel to this story (it would be less ridiculous, seeing as they'd be back in reality) go vote in the poll (which is on my profile page). Or say so in your review of course.

And as ever, thanks to everyone for your reviews!


	9. The End

**Disclaimer:** Own Harry Potter, I do not. Mmm.

* * *

Chapter 9 (_The End_)

* * *

"We're comin' up on 'er, Cap'n!" someone cried from the crow's nest.

"Ready the long nines! All hands to stations! Prepare for battle, lads!" Beesting hollered.

He pulled out a spyglass, examining the enemy vessel. "Twinkle me toes an' shiver me timbers," he muttered.

Hermione shared a look with Draco, but quickly looked away before she burst out laughing. "What is it, Captain?"

He put the spyglass in her hands. "The Lepeculiars have spotted us already."

She blinked, then looked through the offered spyglass. Bellatrix Lestrange – or Lepeculiar – was on deck, twin swords in her hand, armed men scurrying into a line before her.

"Hard to starboard! Prepare to fire!"

The _Doe_ mirrored the _Phoenix_'s actions, preparing to broadside.

"Fire all!"

The shout was echoed from the other ships, and soon the air was full with the sound of thundering cannons and splintering wood. The crew started to swing across the open water, landing on the deck of the _Basilisk_ and immediately entering battle with the waiting pirates.

She glanced at Draco. "Shall we go?"

"If I said no, would it stop you?" he asked dryly.

She thought about it for a second. "No."

They found an available line and quickly swung across. It was harder than it looked, and was primarily achieved only because this whole scenario was, in fact, a dream.

"Where'd all these people come from, anyway?" Draco muttered as they watched the sword fighting.

She snorted, "Haven't you ever seen a movie? They're extras, to make the scene more dramatic." When he still looked confused, she said, "Never mind, let's just go find Snakeface."

He turned out not to be difficult to find, considering Gryffin had already found him. They were dueling on the poop deck, and Hermione paused, not wanting to put herself in the middle of it.

"Granger, we can't just stand here and watch," Draco growled as a pirate approached them.

Frowning, she pulled out her sword. "Then we fight."

Reminding herself fiercely that this was just a daydream, and even if it weren't, her life would depend on this, she started cutting a swath through the _Basilisk_'s crew, Draco doing the same beside her.

Her eyes widened when she looked up to find she'd matched swords against Bella Lepeculiar. The woman was grinning fiercely, twin swords held in a cross before her. "Been awhile since I've matched swords wit' me own kind, girlie. Best make it worth me while."

"Umm," she said, stepping back. "Bye!" she exclaimed, running to the other side of the ship.

Bella cursed, running after her. She quickly put the mast between them. She peeked out from one side, squeaking and ducking back when she came face to face with a growling Bella. She peeked from the other side, and the process was repeated. Then she dashed out from the same side, catching Bella off guard. She dashed back to the stairs to the poop deck, where Draco was fending off a few extras.

"Help!" she yelped.

He glanced up, eyes widening in surprise. He spun to bring his sword to bear against Bella.

"Pathetic," Bella spat – most likely directed at Hermione.

Did she care? Nope.

Bella and Draco fought, and Hermione had to wonder at his proficiency with a sword. Did he actually know how to use one in reality?

"ALBUS!" Snakeface yelled, and her head jerked up to see him standing on the railing, one hand on a convenient rope for support. This was the first good look she'd gotten of him, and she was surprised. He wasn't snake-like, as she had expected – really, he was actually kind of handsome. He was tall, with jet black hair. His eyes were a startlingly deep navy blue. "ALBUS!" he repeated. "FACE ME LIKE A MAN, YOU COWARD! DON'T FORCE THE PUP TO DO YOUR WORK!"

Gryffin was on the floor, weaponless, but seemingly unharmed. "'E's not forcin' me ta do anythin', yeh bloody treach'rous dog! Yeh killed me parents an' now I'm gonna kill yeh!"

Snakeface laughed humorlessly at this and shook his head.

Using the distraction to her advantage, Hermione quickly hit Bella over the head, and she conveniently passed out. Everyone else, save a few extras, had paused to watch.

On the_ Phoenix _there was some activity. Beesting stood in the center of the deck, waiting as Robby scrambled forward with a sword and a belt to hold it. After buckling it on, he took a rope and nimbly swung across.

"What lies have you been puttin' betwixt this boy's ears, Albus? Turnin' him against me for your own selfish reasons?" Snakeface snorted. "And you call me the pirate." He jumped down from the railing, sword held ready.

"I've told him no lies!" Beesting climbed the steps to the poop deck three at a time. "Been keeping up on your sword work, Tom?" he sneered, standing a few feet away from him.

He raised an eyebrow in response, taking a dueling stance. "No lies? Then what's this rubbish about killing his parents?"

Each began to test the other's blade, so quickly and elaborately that it was like a dance. Their swords caught, and they paused for a moment.

"If you had stayed, James would be alive!" Beesting growled.

"And I, dead of disease in his place!"

They broke apart, circling a few feet away from each other. Gryffin watched confusedly from the back railing of the ship.

"What the hell?" Draco muttered, distractedly fighting off an overeager extra.

"Perhaps so, but better you than he!" Beesting said, lashing out with his sword again.

Snakeface dodged it easily. "Why? Because I left _her_ to become a pirate? To be free? That's what it's about, isn't it. You're stuck under the thumb of our father, while I'm free to do as I please."

"Did he just say 'our father'? Like they're brothers?" Hermione asked confusedly.

"Tha's what I 'eard," said the extra she was fighting.

She blinked. None of the extras had spoken before. She looked him over. Nope, still unrecognizable. "You realize I have to kill you now?"

"'Course. 'Tis what I'm 'ere fer."

"Okaaay…."

"Scum! I'd rather die than become like you!" Beesting was shouting.

"What the 'ell is goin' on?" asked a bewildered Gryffin.

Snakeface glanced at him, then away, parrying a blow from Beesting. "Gryffin… I am…"

"Don't you dare, Tom! Better no father at all!" Beesting shouted.

"Silence, you blind fool!" he snarled. "Gryffin, I am your father!"

Hermione blinked. Now everyone stopped to stare, even the extras. The only sound that existed of the battle that should be raging were the cannons from all three ships, still firing, unaware of the drama unfolding above.

Gryffin gaped. "What? No! What?!"

Beesting took this moment of distraction to knock Snakeface's weapon out of his hand, which slid across the deck and into the sea. Eyes wide, he backed away, Beesting following him until a second sword blocked his path.

"Yeh shall not kill 'im until I've 'eard the truth, uncle," Gryffin demanded.

"You believe his word over mine!?" Beesting hissed angrily.

Gryffin's eyes flashed with uncertainty, but his sword held firm.

Beesting took a step back, "Fine. What he says is true," he spat. "We share a father, him and I. He wooed your mother, but the cowardly dog left her soon after she told him the news, and James took responsibility."

Gryffin's mouth fell open, and he looked between his uncle and the man he was protecting. "Why?"

Beesting seemed unwilling to participate further, turning his back.

"James was my friend. Both our friends, at one time or 'nother," Tom supplied. "He and I both fancied the girl, but 'twas I that won her over first. I was young an' foolish, an' my love for the sea overcame my sense."

"Aye, and 'twas not a difficult battle for it!" Beesting spat.

There was silence, until–

"What did Luscious miss?"

Hermione frowned. "How'd you get out of the _Phoenix_'s brig?"

"Luscious has his ways! Luscious found the conditions absolutely deplorable, and was very displeased…."

"Oh, shut up," Draco sighed, hitting his 'father' over the head. "Granger, you know what I said about this resembling reality?"

"Yeah?" she called back.

"Forget it!"

Gryffin stared at his newfound father, not sure what to do next.

"Wait, where did Beesting go?" Hermione muttered.

"You're still a murderer," Gryffin said finally.

"Aye, I've killed my share – but never a one that did not pick up a sword against me first," Tom said. Then, more quietly, "What say ye, Gryffin?"

After a moment, Gryffin stuck his hand out. His father grabbed it, paused, then pulled him into a hug.

"Aww," sighed the extras.

For a fraction of a second, something in the air shifted. Then it became apparent what it was as the ship exploded with a deafening roar. Hermione latched onto Draco as they went flying in the air, landing in the water with a jarring splash.

She gasped and began to claw her way to the surface. She sputtered, looking around wildly once she'd reached air. "Draco? Draco!"

The _Basilisk_ was in flames, and even as she watched, slowly breaking in half. All around her people were bobbing on the surface, looking shocked. She could see Tom and Gryffin treading water nearby, as well as most of the _Phoenix _and _Doe_ raiding parties. Even Luscious had made it. But there was no sign of Draco.

"'Urry up you lot, get in the boat," said someone in a life boat from the _Doe_. "If yeh can swim, yeh can climb in!"

Hermione flinched as there was a second explosion from the _Basilisk_. Shrapnel went flying through the air, and she shrieked as a large piece came directly for her. She dived under the water, but not quickly enough. It crashed into her back, knocking the breath from her lungs.

Pain shot through her body and her vision faded into blackness.

* * *

**A/N:** Alright. So, you guys have convinced me to do a sequel! I've just started working on the plot, and have some ideas now.

To those of you that I indicated that it would be less funny/ridiculous: NEVER MIND! -grin- That's all I'll say for now. Although it'll be hard to top this chapter in the sequel as far as ridiculousness.

Anyway, as ever, thank you _all_ for your wonderful reviews!

P.S. - one chapter to go.


	10. Epilogue

**Disclaimer:** If wishes were horses... I'd have to build a stable, but I still wouldn't own Harry Potter.

* * *

Chapter 10 (_Epilogue_)

* * *

Hermione held her breath, clawing her way towards the light. Her fingers clenched as she broke the surface, head swimming. She shut her eyes, concentrating on breathing in the salty air and listening to the seagulls shriek. Beside her, she heard someone else gasp and groan.

Finally, she opened her eyes. The room spun, then settled, and she frowned in confusion. She was in a bed, with stiff white sheets. Light flooded in through the open windows at the back of the room, ricocheting off the white tile until it was blinding. The room was lined with beds identical to the one she lay in, except for one walled-off area, with a plaque that read 'Matron's Office.'

Draco was in a bed next to her, looking as bewildered as she.

Finally her mind caught up to her senses. "We're back?"

He blinked at her, then shook his head, as if to clear it. "So it appears." He paused, frowning. "So, wait, what happened?"

"I think Beesting blew up the ship."

A door opened and they both jumped slightly.

"Oh! You're awake then? About time! You two gave us quite a scare you know," Madam Pomfrey said. "Unconscious, yet not a thing wrong with you," she tsked at them, then began to check them over.

The door to the Hospital wing opened, admitting Dumbledore and Snape to the room.

"And how are our mysterious patients today, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked

"Oh, Headmaster. I was about to send for you – they've just woken up," the nurse responded.

Snape immediately swooped up to Draco, peering into his eyes and testing his pulse.

"_Really_, Severus…" Pomfrey began.

Snape inclined his head slightly to the woman and took a step back. "It's good to see you awake, Mr. Malfoy."

"Come now," Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling down at Hermione. He pulled something out of his pocket and opened it, pulling out a lemon drop. Then he glanced up at her again. "May I offer you a lemon drop?" he asked, holding out a miniature treasure chest.

Her eyes widened. "Ahh, no, thank you, sir."

He smiled at her kindly. "Of course. Now then, would you care to explain what happened to cause all this? You have been unconscious for just over two days."

She hung her head. "I was experimenting with someone else's charm, and there was an accident."

Dumbledore chuckled, "I see. That explains the broken Weasley twin product we found nearby." She nodded, and he continued. "I believe that this will prove to be a useful lesson to you, Miss Granger. Assuming there are no lasting side-effects, I believe you may return to classes tomorrow morning."

She nodded again, "Thank you, sir."

He twinkled down at her for a moment longer. "Is there anything you would like to share with me, Miss Granger?"

She frowned, confused. "No, sir."

"Very good," he nodded and left. Snape hesitated, then followed him out.

Madam Pomfrey bustled back to her office, muttering to herself.

Shaking her head and deciding that the weirdness was just a leftover from the charm, she glanced at Draco. "So… what happens now?"

"I don't know what you mean," he responded, not meeting her gaze.

"Draco…" she began, but then Madam Pomfrey was back.

After a couple magical scans, she said, "Alright then, you lot. You're free to go. But if you experience anything odd, come see me _at once_. Understood?"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," she said. Draco nodded.

Once they exited the Hospital Wing, she tried again. "Draco?"

He turned. "Look, Granger. We can't be friends – not here. It would get us completely cast out… or, actually, I'm quite certain it would be something far worse. What do you think the people we know would have to say about it?"

Friends. Is that what they were?

Her brows knit into an angry frown. "I don't care. We don't have to go skipping 'round together; we can keep this a secret. Unless you'd rather just end it now?"

"I –" he started, eyes wide and staring blankly. "No – I don't –" his jaw clenched, and he focused those amazing eyes on her. He nodded, once, as he turned to go. "See you later, Granger."

Harry and Ron turned the corner at that moment, and they scowled at Draco, who knocked shoulders with Harry in passing.

Her friends spotted her, and came running up. "Hermione! You're alright!"

She grinned at her friends – all three of them, though the third was still walking away. He turned to meet her eyes again, and he nodded once more before turning the corner.

"Oi, what's with the ferret?" Ron asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I've just woken up from a coma, and you're worried about _him_ of all people?"

Harry laughed as they started for the Great Hall. "Sorry, 'Mione."

Later at dinner, she looked up to find him watching her. Never taking his eyes off her, he raised a goblet to his lips. She echoed the move.

A toast to their new relationship, and whatever future it would bring.

* * *

Seagulls and pelicans roosted and squawked on the roof of Hogwarts, filling the salty sea air with noise. A ship's bell rang in the distance, somewhere on the Black Lake. Strange things were beginning to happen at the school, but no one was noticing – yet.

* * *

**A/N:** I apologize for the shortness, but that, my friends, is the end. Do not mourn, for before long, a new adventure will begin, and more ridiculousness shall be had!

I'm still working on the plot for the sequel, but never fear it _is_ coming.

I'd like to thank all of my lovely reviews once more... well, I suppose it isn't just "once more" since I'll continue to say it in every chapter of every story I ever post. But! I really do appreciate you guys! -Passes out candies to all of you- (don't worry, they aren't cursed.)

I should get the first chapter of the sequel up within a week or so.

Until next time, guys 'n' gals!


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